by Kitt Rose
“But what about your house?” Z asked.
“Your sister can have it. Once she’s on her feet and working more, she can buy it off of me.”
“But—”
“No buts. I know money’s an issue for you, but this is already done. I love this house. I love you. Let’s combine the two.”
“But—”
“Baby,” I said, stopping her excuses.
Her forehead creased, a line forming between her brows. I rubbed my thumb over it, smoothing away her worries. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed her hand.
“Before you say anything else, I have one more thing to show you.”
She took my hand and I led her down the hall to the master bedroom at the back of the house. This door was closed too. I opened it and stepped inside.
Zirah gasped as she followed me inside. She ran to the wall, to the mural I’d painted there over the last two days while she sat at her nephew’s hospital bedside.
“Is this me?” she asked, hand hovering over her face.
I moved to stand beside her, tracing the lines of her face with my eyes. “Yes, and that’s me, obviously.”
She looked at the image of me holding her. In the painting, our hair blew in the wind as we stood on the street outside of Ink’d. The businesses in the background were blurred and indistinct, the piece’s focus on the lover’s embrace.
“It’s amazing. But you’re more beautiful than this,” she said in a quiet voice.
My ears heated and Z laughed.
“You hate when I call you beautiful, don’t you?”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t hate anything about you.” Honesty rang in my voice. “But see, this house is ours. I put our mark on it. We met there.” I gestured to the downtown street in its muted colors. “That’s where our story began. I don’t know where it will end, but I do know what the next chapter holds.”
“You do?” she asked.
Nodding, I dug my hands into my pocket, fishing out the tiny velvet bag. For all its lightness, it had been a weight in my pocket for the last few weeks while I’d waited for the right moment. Three days ago, I’d realized what an idiot I was.
When you wanted something in life, something you needed more than air, you went out and got it. You didn’t wait for the right time, you made the time. Because every moment that passed you by was a lost opportunity.
I hooked the ring and palmed it before grabbing Zirah’s hand. Without a word, I slid the platinum solitaire onto her finger.
“Us. That’s how this goes. Wherever, whenever, however, I don’t care, just as long as there’s always a you and me.”
Z looked down at the ring, her free hand flying to the round O of her mouth.
“Marry me,” I told her.
She glanced up, her eyes luminous and dimples on full display. In a flurry of motion, she threw her arms around me and grabbed my ears, pulling my face down to hers.
Laughter rolled through me. “Is that a yes?” I asked between kisses.
“That’s a yes,” she said, laughing with me.
The End
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Other Books by Kitt Rose:
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